The Lost
by TheWorldsTallestLeprechaun
Summary: Things aren't all they seem in Nerima. The chaos and madness, it's too much to be accidental. Too controlled to be all coincidence. And it's time to find out what happens when the curtain is thrown back, and the man behind it gets what he deserves. WARNING: Dark, with violent bits, and a fairly serious tone dealing with personal trauma and recovery.
1. Chapter 1

Okay, people. Fair warning that this fic is gonna be a bit darker and less slap-happy the other stuff I've written, so take that into account when the gritty and rather grim descriptions come out. And while I didn't WANT to label it as a crossover, I kinda have to for honesty's sake, even if it risks giving away a bunch of the plot for those who have experience with WoD.

Also, I'm experimenting a tad with this fic, which is why the chapters are going to be extremely short, so bear all that in mind as we move forward.

I do not on Ranma ½ or the characters from that series. I am also not a member/employee of White Wolf publishing, and claim no credit for their works.

* * *

The Lost  
Chapter 1

 **OOOOOO**

The scrape of metal on metal.

Pounding footsteps followed by almost imperceptible hiss of a blade sinking into warm flesh.

"W-what have you done?!"

"Killed you."

Two voices. One choked by pain, thickened in the way that only someone of supreme confidence can attain when they find out their pride has become their ultimate downfall. The other voice is cold, but with a furious, bitter twist of absolute disgust.

A harsh tear brings a pained gasp which devolves into a duet of wordless screams of fear and rage as the killer's weapon strikes home over and over again, until there is only silence save for the harsh wet thuds of a newly-made corpse being given several unnecessary stabs.

The body already cooling, the one who had turned a living thing into a slab of pock-marked meat panted for air, before spitting, "First you...then _her_ ," and getting to their feet.

Footfalls echoed as the killer left the scene of their crime, leaving behind a pool of blood and a soft, hopeful whisper.

"Home…"

 **OOOOOO**

Mousse grimaced at the sunlight streaming through his window. The lackluster sleeping arrangements of the Cat Cafe's 'servant's quarters' (as he'd come to call them) making it impossible to sleep past dawn, even if it wasn't for the old ghoul who would be croaking for him to awaken moments later. With nothing more to do than accept the fact that he was now firmly in the land of consciousness, the master of hidden weapons sat up and prepared to start his day. As he rolled out of bed however, he noticed something. Namely, the fuzzy black lines standing out from a deep brown box at the foot of his bedroll, the edges of which were similarly blurred.

Mousse squinted and the lines gained definition, turning into the small dresser where he stored his meager wardrobe. After checking for a few moments more, his hands came up to his face and patted his ears. Blinking quizzically, he looked around and saw the slightly reflective circles of his glasses next to his pillow, which soon found themselves being raised to his eyes. The dark-haired boy winced as the world went fish-eyed, well-defined but also bowed as though reality itself had tunneled in front of him and he pulled the spectacles away before a headache formed.

His eyes narrowed in curiosity, only to slowly widen as he turned his gaze around his room, before eventually raising a hand to his face. With the palm of his hand only an inch from his nose, he slowly pulled it away and stopped the moment the faint lines across his hand became indistinguishable.

Mousse's glasses clattered to the floor, as the Master of Hidden Weapons breathlessly whispered, "I...I can **see** …"

Down the hall, Cologne was pogoing towards the part-timers room when her Great-Granddaughter opened her door and looked blearily out into the hall, her lilac-tresses mussed into a wicked case of bedhead as she said "Good morning, Great-Grandmother."

"Good morning, Shampoo." Cologne replied happily "You going to be ready by the time we open?"

"Of course, Great-Grandmother." Shampoo yawned before stepping into the hallway and adding, "I just need to brush my hair." as she padded to the bathroom.

Cologne paused in her hopping, having caught something in her descendants voice that seemed...off. Turning around, she called "Shampoo, are you-"

"I CAN SEE!"

Both women jumped as Mousses door was thrown open, with the boy himself leaping into the hallway and looking around frantically. Catching sight of them, he smiled widely and shouted "Shampoo! My beloved!" and ran towards the pair. Cologne grunted in annoyance, preparing to belt the whelp before he grabbed her and making a note that her discipline had been slipping lately as she thought the idiot had learned his lesson about glomping random people and paraphernalia first thing in the morning.

Then Mousse was past her, and the old woman blinked as a loud shout of "AIYAH!" came from behind her. Turning around, she saw Mousse hugging Shampoo tightly, lifting the shocked amazon off the ground and spinning around while crowing happily, "I can see! I can see!"

"Aiyah! Mousse, you idiot! What do you think you're doing!?"

There it was again, a ping on Cologne's well-honed radar as the part-timer dropped her heir to the floor. Shampoo caught herself easily, but was caught off-guard by suddenly finding her cheeks sandwiched between Mousses hands as he pulled her face towards his. Raw unadulterated shock was the only thing that saved the blind fools life, as Cologne and Shampoo were too surprised by his actions to stop him from what they both assumed to be him crossing a well-drawn line in the sand.

But he didn't. Instead of kissing the love of his life full on the lips, Mousse pulled her close enough that her face was only inches from his and stared at her in an intensity normally reserved for high energy lasers. Then his eyes glimmered and his smile softened as tears rolled down his cheeks. "Shampoo...you're...more beautiful than I ever dreamed…"

It took Shampoo a moment to register the compliment, blinking in shock as her sleep-addled mind cleared.

Then she blushed furiously, hauled back and slugged Mousse full in the face, knocking him the length of the hallway and flat on his back at the base of Cologne's staff with a harsh shout of, "What have I told you about being grabby, Mousse!?"

It said something about Cologne's mental state when the mildly concussed Mousse, thanks to his obsession with all things related to Shampoo, caught the change in his beloved's speech pattern before she did and pushed himself up onto his elbows to ask, "Shampoo? Why are you talking like that?"

"Talking like what!?"

"You're talking normally."

Elder and younger Amazon blinked, the elder focusing on her Great-Granddaughter, who developed an eye twitch as she growled, "Normally!?"

"Yeah, you're using contractions and everything." Mousse said simply. "Normally you say 'stupid mousse' not 'Mousse, you idiot'."

"Dammit, Mousse!" Shampoo stomped her foot, splintering the floorboards under her feet as she shouted "It's a speech impediment! I don't need you making fun of it!"

Mousse blinked at that "Really? I thought you were doing that on purpose."

"Why would I do that?!"

"Well, I thought it sounded cute." Mousse smiled widely "And figured you were using it as some kind of ploy to snare that enemy of all women."

Shampoo snarled at the insult against her Airen, even as her cheeks reddened again. Before she could pound the deluded fool, Cologne caught their attention by calling Mousse's name. When he looked up, the Elder Amazon stuck a hand out and said "How many fingers do you see?"

Mousse focused on the fuzzy protrusions about a foot-and-a-half over his head and said "Three?" Then he squinted and nodded "Yep, definitely three."

Shampoo's jaw dropped and Cologne stared at the formerly blind martial artist. Klaxon's blared in the Matriarch's mind as she pieced together his eyesight and her heir's coherent speech patterns, and she softly said "What...has happened here?"

 **-O-**

 **So, what madness has been wrought this day?**

 **This answers to this and more, coming soon...**


	2. Chapter 2

So, this took it's sweet time getting here. I have no one to blame for it but myself, frankly.

* * *

The Lost  
Chapter 2

 **OOOOOO**

With a loud splash, Ranma's shocked cry was silenced by burbling water, only to return as a high-pitched feminine shout of, " _Dammit, Pops, will you stop that!?"_

" _You need to keep your guard up at all times, boy! A martial artist can be attacked at any time!"_

Akane groaned as furious shouts signaled the start to yet another day of training for the heir to the Saotome School of Anything Goes Martial Arts. Grumbling bitterly as she pulled herself out of bed, the bluenette groused, "Why can't that idiot keep it down? I swear, if he normally wasn't so nice, I'd-"

She stopped, wide-eyed as she covered her mouth with one hand and looked around worriedly. ( _Masaka_ , where'd that come from!? Ranma's not nice! He's a rude, insensitive jerk!) Shaking her head and blushing furiously, Akane started pulling clothes out of her drawer and said to herself, "Thank God nobody heard that! Why would I think that about him, anyway?"

Down the hall, Nabiki Tendo was waking up as well. Unlike her sibling however, the middle Tendo sister was in an even fouler mood than Akane. Rolling herself out of bed with a pained grimace and walking on shaky legs to her dresser, the brunette studied her reflection and winced at her pale, haggard expression. "I feel like hell...maybe I should call in sick?"

A thought flashed through her mind, a memory of the other day and the important deal she'd made. Shoving aside her churning stomach, the girl locked eyes with her reflection and smiled coldly as she chuckled. "Then again, they do say there's no rest for the wicked."

Soun read the morning paper, occasionally glancing up to watch his two houseguests practice their art, smiling in satisfaction as the feeling of security for his legacy grew. Listening to Kasumi hum to herself behind him, the widower felt a pang as he remembered how her mother had done the same, so many years ago. (Kimiko…) the mustachioed man looked skyward (I hope you're happy with how I've raised our children.) A thought struck the older man unexpectedly and his eyes narrowed at the impulse coming to his mind. "Kasumi?"

Kasumi Tendo, domestic goddess made manifest, paused in setting out breakfast for her family and turned to her father. "Yes, Otou-san?" she asked quizzically, "What is it?"

"I...want to say thank you, my daughter."

The matronly girl looked at Soun curiously as turned his head, his eyes somber but his smile grateful. "I was just thinking about your mother. And I want you to know, I believe she would be proud of you, and how you've helped keep our family together."

Kasumi's eyes widened and the bowl of rice nearly slipped from her fingers at her father's words. Setting the bowl down quickly, the girl fought back tears as she whispered, "T-thank you, father."

"You're welcome, Kasumi." Soun inclined his head in a small nod before turning to look out into the backyard again. After a moment, he added, "You're so much like her. I hope you get the chance to make someone as happy as she made me."

The brunette looked downwards, a tear escaping from her eyes as she gave her father a heartfelt, " _Arigatou gozaimasu, Otousan_." When she heard the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs, Kasumi wiped her cheeks dry and adopted a smile that was a bit sunnier than normal as she greeted her page-cut sister with a cheery, " _Ohayo_ , Nabiki-chan!"

" _Ohayo_ , Kasumi-nee." Nabiki gave the older girl a cross between a smile and a wince as she sat down at the table, noting the concerned look on her sibling's face and waving her hand placatingly. "Don't worry, Kasumi, I'm fine. Just had a bad dream."

"You're sure?" Kasumi noted the pale cheeks and dark circles under her little sister's eyes. "Maybe you should stay home, just in case?"

Nabiki's eyes narrowed and she said bluntly, "I'll be fine." Which Kasumi found rather rude. Before she could comment on that however, Nabiki stood back up and headed towards the front door, bookbag in hand and tossed out a cool, "See you later, _Nee-san_." As she left.

"Nabiki-chan!" Kasumi called after her little sister, only to be ignored as the sound of the front door opening and shutting again reached her ears. The ponytailed brunette gave a very rare frown, which disappeared as Akane came downstairs, likewise prepared for school. " _Ohayo_ , Akane-chan!"

" _Ohayo_ , Kasumi-nee." Akane returned her older sister's greeting with a smile. As she sat down at the table, there was a definitive thumping sound and Ranma-chan hopped through the open porch door, smiling widely and calling, "You're getting soft, Pops!" to the black and white fur-ball laying in the yard. The redhead immediately tore into her breakfast and Kasumi shook her head ruefully, thinking how badly his table manners had developed thanks to his years living in the wild with a man who routinely stole his food. Then the brunette noticed her sister staring at Ranma.

Well, staring wasn't quite the proper term. If Kasumi didn't know any better, she'd swear Akane was ogling her redheaded fiancé, with most of her attention focused on Ranma-chan's bust. The older girl blinked as Akane's blush deepened before the bluenette looked away and said, "Shouldn't you go get changed, Ranma?"

"Mmph?"

Kasumi fought down a few giggles as Ranma-chan had stopped in mid-chew, her cheeks puffed out like a squirrel's as she looked quizzically at her fiancé before swallowing mightily and asking, "What's up, Akane?"

"You should get dressed before we leave for school."

"Ahh," Ranma-chan waved her hand dismissively. "I'll do that when I'm done eating."

Before the redhead dug in again, Akane shot her a pointed look. "Ranma, that water was _pretty cold_ and you should _probably_ _ **change**_ _."_

Ranma-chan blinked in confusion. "What're you talkin' about Akane?"

Akane grunted in frustration, and felt the urge to lambast the pigtailed girl for having no modesty, except the familiar rush of anger was very faint today. And far overshadowed by the urge to do something that _wasn't_ familiar to her at all. Choosing a different tactic, Akane declared with a supremely unconcerned expression, "Then I suppose that's a new technique you're going to use on Happy? What are you going to call it? Anything Goes Diamond Spikes?"

Kasumi blushed furiously as she realized the reason for her sister's staring while Ranma-chan looked down at herself for a few moments, only to have her face match her hair as she caught onto Akane's hint and leapt from her seat to change out of the soaking wet wife-beater she'd been wearing. Kasumi smiled to herself, happy that Akane hadn't been doing anything as unladylike as gawping at her betrothed like some kind of lech.

(I'm not a lesbian.) Akane fought for control of her mental landscape against a variety of disturbing thoughts which had sprung up out of nowhere when she'd seen Ranma-chan's all-natural thermometers ready to poke the eyes out of everyone nearby. (I'm not a lesbian. I'm not a lesbian, I don't even _like_ that baka and I don't _care_ if her chest might be more sensitive than mine because I'm **not** a _LES_ -)

The taps of rapid footsteps signaled the return of Ranma, now male and decked in his usual red and black chinese styled duds as he resumed his previous spot at the table. While he buzz-sawed through his breakfast before his father awoke and made him fight for the privilege of not starving, Akane looked at the fit and handsome pig-tailed boy, eye-twitching as she thought, (I'm... _not_ a lesbian...) with a mixture of relief and frustration, as she now had to contend with 2 allied forces campaigning through her mind, each group waving banners portraying her fiancé in various ways and poses, ranging from simply flattering to downright lewd.

Shaking her head, Akane focused all her attention on her meal and frowned as she thought (What is **wrong** with me today!?)

 **-AN-**

 **What indeed?**

 **Also, forgive my lateness. Many pots cooking over many fires, sometimes I fall behind.**


End file.
